


Turtle, Duck, Dragon, Horse

by Harmburger



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Illustrated, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29798880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmburger/pseuds/Harmburger
Summary: Meet Sruthi.She's broken. She must be, for her parents to be so eager to dump her at a temple halfway around the world from home. It's a place with a reputation for handling "difficult cases," but no amount of meditation can possibly fix her. If only she'd never been born a firebender.Meet Grit.The earthbender who never was, her father sends to her his hometown on Kyoshi Island. There she must find her place in a farming village full of familiar strangers. Being a teenager is hard enough without being the black sheep, too.Meet Akiya.She and her waterbender girlfriend travel the Earth Kingdom at their whim. Others may not get them, but that's fine as long as they're allowed on their merry way. Too bad reality is nowhere near as kind as their world of two.Meet Hana.Republic City. Air Temple Island. This is it, the start of a whole new life. She thought she was prepared for anything, but she never expected to reconnect with her estranged family or fall for definitely the weirdest man she's ever met. To top it off, she may just be the worst airbender who's ever lived.Their lives will collide in a tale of metaphysics, misfits, and unlikely love.
Kudos: 2





	Turtle, Duck, Dragon, Horse

**Author's Note:**

> Chin up, Sruthi! No really, watch where you're walking, or you'll trip and break your neck.

“We’re expected. We did call ahead.”

“Well, yes, but the admissions office is closed for the season. We’re only taking tour requests. I’d be happy to show you ar—”

“There must be someone we can talk to. Go back and tell _whoever_ that the Kannars are here.” Your mother repeats the name, enunciating as if she were addressing a half-wit. “The Kan-NARS.”

The poor attendant’s face takes on a familiar expression; a tight-lipped grimace paired with a squint in a poor approximation of an agreeable smile. You haven’t actually looked up from your holograph to confirm this, but you can tell from the way she says, “Let me just see what I can do,” before scampering off. This is the effect your mother has on people. At least your father hasn’t stepped in to throw his weight around. Yet.

You’re busy flipping through entertainment options on your Unagi. You hold it like an open book, tucked behind the curtain of your bangs so that the holo-display nearly projects its diffracted light directly into your eyes. Three-dimensional figments flicker just past your nose as you debate what to distract yourself with. Nothing interactive, since you need to keep your wits about you. No music, since you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it at such a low volume anyway. It’s fun to watch the idols dance even on mute, though.

“I thought you checked,” Mother snaps. In your peripheral vision, you see the man in front of you straighten up. That would be Father.

He steps forward to join Mother, just out of sight. “The pamphlet did say year-round enrollment. That woman must’ve just been confused.”

“I can’t believe we came all this way for nothing.” Now she’s pouting, with a full-on sulk ready to drop as soon as she’s certain she’s not getting her way.

“We don’t know that yet. A place with such a fine reputation must be managed by reasonable people.” The implication being, of course, that reasonable people can always be persuaded with a big wad of cash. They really are determined to dump you here, aren’t they?

Nothing in the Unagi’s catalog appeals to you, yet you keep flipping through because at least the morphing icons are something to focus on. They almost keep you from noticing the way your little brother stands at attention between you and your parents, like a dog waiting for a treat. You flip faster.

Footsteps approach from the direction the attendant fled a few minutes ago. Two people, or maybe more. Everyone here walks so quietly it’s hard to be sure. You don’t look up.

“Ah, the Kannar Family! I’m the one you spoke to on the phone. My name is Shuo Fa, he/him. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you when you arrived.”

“Deepak, he/him.”

“Lavanya, she/her.”

“These are our— _Sruthi_.” At the sound of your name, you snap the Unagi shut and peer up at the adults. “Put that away. I won’t tell you again.” Father sighs and starts over. “These are our two children. Smrithik, he/him.” Your brother bows politely. “Sruthi, she/her.” You manage a head bob as you slip your handheld into a back pocket.

“Oh, such a handsome family. You’re looking into enrollment for…?”

“Sruthi.” Father beckons, so you step forward for appraisal. He rests a heavy hand on your shoulder and begins talking about you like you’re not here, one of his favorite hobbies recently. “We’ve heard such great things about the work your company does, especially for borderline cases. Our Sruthi is a firebender, but she hasn’t been able to express it for over a year now.” He tosses in a friendly chuckle. “Frankly, she has everyone stumped back home.”

“I see.” Shuo Fa is considering you, so you do it right back at him. He’s a tan man with watery blue eyes and dark hair pulled up into a bun. Not remarkable looking, but he is a little older and taller than the poor, unnamed attendant, which lends him an air of relative authority.

Father presses on. “We were hoping to see about getting her a spot here.” He pauses, gauging Shuo Fa’s reception. “To make up for the trouble, we’re happy to make a monetary contribution. Whatever amount you think would be appropriate.” How much are you worth, you wonder? You almost ask.

“We’ve come _such_ a long way,” adds Mother.

Shuo Fa turns to the attendant and half-whispers something about tracking down one of the floating clerks before turning back to the family. “Soth will find someone who can help you in that regard,” indicating the retreating woman. “In the meantime, please allow me to show you what we have to offer here at Patola Lungta.”

You’ve been waiting in the modest reception hall all this time. It’s not too dissimilar from some of the temples back home in Pittala, aside from all the cultural artifacts. They’re museum-quality pieces from the four Old Nations, displayed with little informative plaques. You’re particularly intrigued by a row of Air Nomad prayer wheels.

Not that you’ve had a chance to examine them. Your parents keep you on a short leash.

As schools go, this one at least has the potential to be interesting. Mundane as this area is, it’s probably nothing like the facilities where people actually live, study, and train. You remember passing through several layers of tiered gardens on the drive up, so you’re really not sure what to expect as you follow with the rest of your family to a rear set of double doors while Shuo Fa narrates.

“Patola Lungta was first founded 100 years ago as a temple and school, a place of harmony between all styles of bending, as well as benders and non-benders. To that end, we’ve been honored to assist two Avatars in their missions of peace, and hope to help many more.” Your guide gestures at the two large painted portraits on either side of the doors. To the left is Avatar Korra, fierce and wise in her middle age, while Avatar Xirang is on the right, the very image of youth. In many ways, the new Avatar is the total opposite of her predecessor: pale, feminine, willowy, but the strength of her gaze is the same.

Your brother Thik gasps excitedly at the picture of Xirang, and he actually speaks out of turn. “Is she here? Is she here _now?”_

Mother cooes and ruffles his hair. “Oh, _kutti_ , is that the one you have a crush on?” You stifle a snort at Thik’s sudden discomfort.

“The last I heard, she’s appearing at the dedication of that fancy new arcology in the Spirit World,” says Father. “She’s putting on a concert? That’s what they said on the news, anyway. Not sure I see the point myself…”

“Yes, but she does come around on occasion,” assures Shuo Fa. “This is where they located her, you know. The geomancers. She was a novitiate, younger even than you.” He nods at nine-year-old Thik, who perks back up a bit.

Your guide pushes open the double doors and leads you up a stone staircase to a yawning moongate. With a practiced smile, he steps aside with a little dramatic flourish to reveal a wide courtyard, green and dappled in late-morning sunlight filtering through the century-old ginkgo trees. A paved walkway meanders up to an ornate pagoda in that flowing local style, dodging around a life-sized bronze statue of a rearing dragon-horse, the temple’s mascot. It’s all pretty, to be sure, but you can’t help but be a little underwhelmed.

“Where are all the people?” asks Mother, with the same cadence you might use to ask, “What’s that smell?”

“This is where we usually entertain guests, including visiting dignitaries.” Credit where credit is due; this guy knows how to appeal to the egos of rich parents. “Currently, you’re getting an _exclusive_ tour. Just up this way, you’ll find—”

“But shouldn’t there be monks out here doing exercises? Or sparring?”

“Well, this is a temple and school, not a monastery.”

Mother scoffs. “I knew that, of course.” When she glances around and continues to not see any bald men in robes practicing jump kicks at each other, or whatever it is she was expecting, she asks, “But where are they?”

“Classes and training are conducted elsewhere, so they won’t be disturbed by visitors shuffling in and out.” Sensing displeasure, Shuo Fa pivots. “Ah, but we do have regular demonstrations in this showcase area.” He’s trotting up to the pagoda’s entrance now, where another set of double doors waits. These are two full storeys tall, made of dark wood and carved with a matching set of images that you can’t quite make out. Not without brushing your hair out of your eyes, anyway.

“Is there anyone in there right now?” Father this time.

“I… don’t believe so.”

Another chuckle from Father, but this one isn’t so friendly, like a smile showing too many teeth. “Okay, Shofar. You said you’d show us what this place has to offer, but you’re not really dazzling me.”

“If you’ll step inside, I’m sure you’ll be impressed by the artful decor. The glasswork mosaics alone have won praise from—”

“With all due respect, we came here to see results, not this artsy-fartsy. Take us to where the people are.”

“As I said, classes aren’t to be interrupted. It’s essential to our methods that students are guaranteed periods of focused activity.”

Father nods and inhales deeply, gravely. “Consider my perspective. I’m a businessman. In my position, if you were asked to invest in a workshop, you’d need to see the craftsmen at work to have confidence in the operation. All we’re getting is the showroom.”

Poor Shuo Fa gives a strangled gasp and stands ramrod straight. It seems a bit early for that kind of terror. Father hasn’t even gotten warmed up yet. Then you realize your guide is staring past your parents, straight over your head.

You prick up your ears, but there are no footsteps to indicate someone approaching from behind. And yet.

“Oh,” says Shuo Fa in a small voice. “Guru Inari.”

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to ~the future~! Full of mystery and second-person pronouns! For real, though, this is just a mini-chapter to kick off the first section of the story. Regular chapters will be much longer and told in third person, so if second-person POV stories bug you, just know that I'm not planning on making it a Whole Thing.
> 
> And yeah, there will be illustrations, but not many as labor-intensive as the one here. You wouldn't believe how much time and thought I put into just the design of that moongate alone. (Yes, I based it on a stargate.) And to think I spent so long constructing an Art Nouveau eight-sided pagoda in three-point perspective and then covered it all up with frickin' TREES.
> 
> Speaking of buildings, I hope someone besides me loves the idea of an [arcology](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arcology) being built in the Spirit World. Presumably, if humans wanted to inhabit the Spirit World in large enough numbers, it'd make sense to built a habitat for them that'd have as low an impact on the environment as possible, which is exactly what an arcology is for. They're basically densely populated megastructures designed to limit harm to the landscape and be self-sufficient. And a lot of them have really cool designs! Too bad they're still science-fiction in the real world.
> 
> If you like what I'm doing here, please give me a kudos and a comment! It's motivational!!! I actually have the next chapter written already. It just needs the drawings and a few edits, so look for that soon.
> 
> [For more Avatar-related material, please check out my Tumblr!](https://bumirang.tumblr.com/)


End file.
